The White Tom
by lillyinblack
Summary: notes inside, please R&R, REVISED. Trowa is questing to recieve his father's kingdom, and as he becomes lost, he is taken in by a kind King of Cats...
1. Chapter 1: Quest for a Kingdom

Disclaimer: If I said I owned Gundam Wing, then I would be zapped to itty- bitty carbony bits by lightning. (looks around for a storm, sees several) I am NOT going to risk it, I don't own it, all that I own are my ideas, don't sue me. Also, this is yaoi (malexmale), so you have been warned. If you don't like that stuff, DON'T READ IT. Flames shall not be tolerated. Please R&R =^.^=  
  
Notes: This is based a French fairytale "The White Cat" written in 1682 by Madame la Comtesse d'Aulnoy. The beginning chapters go pretty much as the Madame wrote, but I took several liberties into it, and I of course changed the characters. The chapters I have yet to finish go more and more into my own ideas. "The White Cat" is truly my favorite fairytale, if you can find it, read it.  
  
Chapter 1: Quest for a Kingdom  
Many years ago, in a time of dragons, kings, and incantations, there lived an aging king with a land so perfect that it was picturesque. King Howard loved his kingdom, and loved seeing it grow and prosper under his rule. He had three sons; the eldest Treize, the middle child Heero, and the youngest son, Trowa.  
The King loved his sons dearly, but he also loved to rule. When he was getting up in years, the people speculated to which prince would receive the kingdom. This worried King Howard, and being the clever man he was, he devised a way to keep his throne for at least a few years. After he finished his careful planning, he called his sons before him.  
"As you know," he began, pacing back and forth in front of them, "I am not a young man anymore, and I do desire to retire some day soon. Perhaps I shall live in our cabin in the north woods."  
"That sounds wonderful, father." Treize replied, his brothers both nodding their heads.  
"Although," King Howard paused, "I would greatly love a small, faithful dog to give me company and keep me safe."  
"I will get this for you father!"  
"I shall retrieve this for you!"  
"No, I shall get you this dog, father!" each of the sons replied earnestly, and thus, King Howard's plan could fall into action.  
"That is it then!" exclaimed King Howard, "Whoever brings me the smallest, most faithful dog in one year's time shall have my throne!" The brothers, so eager about the challenge, agreed to then idea with no question, not realizing that they were being cheated of a year of rule. They agreed to set out that day, and meet with their father a year later.  
Treize and Heero headed of to the opposite polls, but Trowa struck east with his group pf servants and knights. In every town he went, he would find many dogs. An even smaller, better-tempered dog would soon replace each one that he bought. Trowa began to fear that a year might not be long enough.  
It had been a month of searching when Trowa and his party delved into a deep section of unknown woods. A sudden, violent tempest arose above the treetops and opened its fury upon the caravan. The storm was so severe that the party was separated, and Trowa was lost, all alone in the dark thickets. He knew he had to find shelter before the brittle branches came crashing down upon him. Trowa jogged down artificially carved paths, until he noticed them becoming cleaner and wider. Ahead on the path, a warm, red light was shining through the trees. When Trowa finally basked in the full glow of this light, he was facing a hidden castle wall, old, ornate and beautiful.  
Trowa stood before the red oak doors for a moment, marveling at its lovely dove-gray walls that seemed to patch so well into the forest. Off to the side of the door, a small fox paw hung from a silver chain. Trowa pulled on this, and at once he heard a series of bells ringing. The doors swung open, and a breath of warm, comfortable air washed over him. The hallway beyond was lit with green torches, being held by white hands. He was slightly bewildered by this, but when looking back into the night, the hallways seemed much more comforting. After he entered, the doors closed snugly behind him, and Trowa continued down the hall in his soaked clothes.  
At the end of the hallway, it broke in two directions, and a pair if small, white and gray mechas pushed him to the right. A slight cry of protest escaped him, but he soon found himself in a lovely room with a bath drawn for him. The little mechas undressed him, bathed him, and then dressed him again in a suit of green and gold with all sorts of gems sewn in. Trowa began to feel one hundred times better, and was starting to forget his troubles with the throne. The little mechas once again guided him back past that first hallway and sat him down at a dining table.  
Trowa looked around at the tremendous finery in the room. Walls of gray granite and white marble, red tapestries hanging from the ceilings, sculptures in silver, and fine paintings all around. The table was set all in reds and silver, and Trowa would have found it hard to disappear in his green suit. Suddenly, two large black cats dressed all in black and walking on their hind legs entered the room and stood on either side of the doorway. Trowa sat a little awestruck and quite amused at these two characters. The two of them drew short sabers and held them high.  
"His Majesty arrives!" one announced in a strong, human male voice. By that time, Trowa was aghast. A white tom, dressed in red, passed into the bright room followed a train of colorfully dressed cats, toms, and kittens. He leapt into a tall chair at the table directly across from Trowa, his blue eyes warm and friendly.  
"Greetings, young prince," the White Tom said in a low and gentle voice, "I do hope you know that you are welcome in my Kingdom of Cats for as long as you please." Trowa thanked him humbly as soon as the words returned to his lips. The White Tom then ordered for dinner for himself, his guest, and his court. At once, the little white mechas carried in a banquet of mice and rats. Trowa worried for a moment, The White Tom laughed.  
"Not to worry, my friend," he said as the white mechas placed a fine meal of Cornish hens in front of Trowa, "I can assure you that your meal has not mice or rats in it, it was even cooked in a different kitchen." Trowa smiled, and they engaged into conversation of travel and the countryside.  
"Tell me, what is your name," Trowa asked after giving his, "and why has your kingdom and court become this way?"  
"My name I may freely tell you," answered The White Tom, "it is Quatre, but the story of my kingdom is unimportant right now. Tell me Trowa, why are you questing, more so, what are you questing for?" Trowa wished to protest his dismissal, be he did not wish to insult his host.  
"I am questing for my father's throne, as he fears parting with it," he told, "I must find the smallest, most loyal dog within a year's time to beat my brothers to the throne."  
"That does not seem quite fair, Prince," Quatre replied.  
"It is not, but it is my only option." Trowa sighed.  
"Worry not, Prince Trowa," Quatre smiled, "We shall help you in this quest, but for now, relax and enjoy your time here as my guest." Trowa immediately felt at ease with his host. There was something very kind and gentle about Quatre that made him feel very at home. After a good night's rest, Quatre showed Trowa the grounds and was introduced to his fifty sisters, who were all the loveliest little cats.  
"I am the youngest," Quatre explained later that evening during dinner, "and the sole male heir to all you see."  
"This is an impressive kingdom to be lord of," Trowa replied, "are you a lone ruler? I have yet to meet your queen."  
"I-I do not have a wife," Quatre stammered, rather bashfully, "I have yet to meet a companion who shall truly love me."  
"I am sure you will, dear friend." Trowa smiled as his meal was served. Quatre could not help himself but feel wonderful at the vote of confidence, let alone being called a dear friend. They then talked late into the night before realizing the time and saying their goodnights.  
Time was lost to Trowa in the next few months as Quatre always had some activity planned for him. Everyday was something new, and on the lazy weekends, they spent their time together relaxing, forming a tight bond between them. Before he knew it, the year was almost over, and the burden of the throne returned to Trowa.  
"What am I to do, Quatre?" he paced about the room, "I mist be at my father's castle in three days, but with no dog, I shall never have a chance!"  
"Do not fret," Quatre said to the rather ruffled prince, "I said I would help you in your quest, and I have." With that, Quatre pushed a large hen egg toward Trowa with his paw.  
"What is it?" Trowa looked over the ordinary looking egg.  
"Inside this shell," Quatre smiled, "you shall find the smallest, most faithful dog you could ever find." Indeed, when Trowa held the egg up to his ear, he heard the distinct bark of a small dog.  
"I don't understand this." He said, surprised.  
"Do not open the shell until you reach your kingdom," Quatre told him as he led Trowa into a courtyard by the font gate, "the little thing may catch cold."  
"I thank you for this kind gift," Trowa sighed, "but how am I going to make it back in three days time?" Some of the servants were tending to a wooden statue of a horse, when it suddenly sprang to life, shaking the lichens from its body while approaching Trowa and Quatre.  
"This horse shall get you home with plenty of time to spare." Quatre smiled. Trowa knelt next to Quatre and smiled back.  
"Thank you so much," he said, "I owe you so very much now, and I promise I shall replay my debt to you."  
"Payment to me shall be your gaining a kingdom." Quatre's eyes sparkled as he watched Trowa mount the wooden steed and ride off with a wave. For a moment, his heart sank as he re-entered his lonely castle. He wondered if he would ever see him again; however, he tried to stay optimistic that he would see the young prince again.  
Trowa's trip was indeed very swift. He arrived at his father's castle within the three days allotted. His lost troop of servants and knights, whom he lost in the woods, had made it back and greeted him, overjoyed with relief at his safe return. He met his brothers inside and greeted them warmly. For a moment, he worried about his chances when he say the little dogs they each had, but after drawing the egg from his pocket, he felt better.  
"Where is your dog?" Treize asked.  
"He probably did not have time to find one," Heero mused quietly, "being lost in the woods, after all."  
"I have my dog," Trowa retorted, "and with best luck, I shall win." With that, King Howard arrived and took his throne.  
"I am so glad to see you all so well," he smiled, "do you have your bids for me?" Howard was still loath to let go of his kingdom, and he was ready to implement the second part of his plan.  
Heero and Treize showed their dogs to their father. The dog Treize obtained was rather superior to the one Heero had found. They watched each other, and then looked at Trowa. Howard spoke to Trowa, his eyes glinting.  
"These dogs are lovely, but they do not quite please me," he said to the chagrin of Heero and Treize, "do you have a dog to show me?" Trowa nodded and pulled the egg from his pocket, and then he split it open gently in his hands. At that moment, the smallest dog Trowa had ever seen leapt from the shell and sat obediently in his hands. He had a very small bark, and he wore a handsome gold collar with a small gold chain linking him to the shell. Heero, Treize, and Howard gasped at almost the same time.  
"I cannot believe you've won!" Heero came over and inspected the little dog. Treize also looked it over, lost for words. Howard was more than worried, and he wracked his brain, trying to figure out how to get away from this situation. He did not want to give up his throne yet! Finally, he stepped forward and took the little dog with care from Trowa.  
"Now that I have this fine animal," he started, "I may live in my cabin for the rest of my days. However..."  
"However what, father?" Trowa inquired nervously.  
"I am nervous to be alone in the woods, although this little dog would surely alert me to any danger," he paced while the little dog danced and yipped in his hands, "I worry that, as I grow older as all men do, I will not be able to wield my heavy sword anymore, and I could easily be killed!" Trowa looked at the floor, starting to feel like he would soon be cheated.  
"We cannot let this happen, father!" Heero stated sternly.  
"Tell us your desire of defense, father." Treize added in, not ready to give up the kingdom to his little brother.  
"I can tell you what I'll need!" the King jumped, "I need a sword light enough for an old man to wield, but just as sharp and deadly as my broadsword!"  
"Excellent! We shall retrieve this for you!" Treize answered excitedly.  
"Then go!" King Howard exclaimed, "Come back in a year, and whichever of you fulfils my request shall receive my kingdom!" Treize and Heero left at that instant with renewed hope in their gait. Trowa looked at the floor blankly for a moment, contemplating his fate. He then turned and brushed past his knights and servants to the courtyard, mounted the wooden steed, and sped back to Quatre's kingdom. 


	2. Chapter 2: A Pact of Trust

Chapter 2: A Pact of Trust Although he was slightly bewildered, Quatre was happy to see Trowa again after their short time apart. He hurried outside to greet the flustered prince and usher him inside to the parlor.  
"My father is so stubborn," Trowa explained in an agitated tone, "and my luck makes him clever in is stubborn ways."  
"What did he do?"  
"He sent us on another quest," Trowa sighed, "so now we must bring him a sword that is as light as a feather, but still terribly deadly."  
"You do not deserve such trickery," Quatre frowned, "you rightfully earned that throne." Trowa's features softened.  
"I only succeeded because of your brilliant gift, Quatre." He smiled. Quatre was blushing under his fine white coat, but the red did not show through. He smiled humbly at Trowa and nodded.  
"I helped you because I know you are deserving," he replied, "and I shall help you in your quest again. For now, let us relax and enjoy ourselves." With that, a little calico maid, one of Quatre's sisters, opened the parlor door and announced that dinner was ready. The cats created a banquet in honor of Trowa's return, and after they were finished, there was a fireworks show in the courtyard. Trowa had never felt so welcomed, and he completely forgot about his crusade for the throne.  
Quatre never seemed to run out of ideas for daily activities. Trowa barely had time to think of anything but himself and Quatre. One day, they called a hunt, and the entire party went out on dog back, while Trowa rode on the wooden horse. Another day, there was a staged battle between the cats and some local wild rabbits Quatre also had them attend several lovely plays in the castle's theatre. There they viewed comedies, tragedies, and romances. With so many things to do, they year went by in the blink of an eye. Trowa realized that he only had one day to find the sword and then return to his father.  
"What am I to do?" Trowa paced in his room, "I do not even have enough time to return to the castle!" Quatre opened the door at that exact moment.  
"Fret not, Prince," he smiled, beckoning in two other toms who carried a large, old sword, "I have what you need." The two toms gave the sword to Trowa, who was immediately disheartened by how heavy and plain it was. He began to unsheathe it, but Quatre stopped him.  
"You must not draw it yet, trust me in this."  
"How am I going to get home?" Trowa put the sword back and clipped it to his side, "The wooden horse will not be fast enough."  
"I know he will not," Quatre smiled and led Trowa to the courtyard where four white horses were waiting to pull a fine chariot, "these horses shall get you to your destination in only eight hours." Trowa looked quite relieved, and took Quatre's paw.  
"I cannot thank you enough." He smiled.  
"N-no thanks is necessary," Quatre felt himself blushing again, "just have a safe trip home." Trowa nodded and leapt into the chariot, then with a fond look back and a wave, he started his trip back. Quatre left immediately to his chambers, distraught in his belief that he would never see Trowa again.  
Trowa made it back to the castle in eight hours flat. His brothers were inside awaiting him so that they could start the banquet for their return. Trowa's court kept asking him why he kept leaving on his own. He could not come up with a good answer, especially when they were inspecting his horses and chariot. King Howard took the throne a couple of hours later and called each of his sons up equally. Treize, being the eldest, was first.  
"This sword," said he, drawing and placing the hilt in his father's waiting hand, "is the very finest work of the eastern smiths. Light, ornate, and deadly." Heero took his up next.  
"This sword is in the traditional style," he handed it to his father, "the metal used is lighter though, much easier to use."  
"Bring yours forth too, Trowa." Said the King. For a moment, Trowa doubted the gift that he had received, but as he unsheathed it, the sword transformed into an ultra-light and very strong long sword.  
"I will let it speak for itself." He smiled, completely relieved, and gave it to his father. The King, after marveling at it for a few moments, convened with his guards for an hour while the Princes waited. He was scared again that he could not deny a winner. Trowa's sword was like nothing he had ever seen or used. He devised yet another plan in his head, and returned to the three Princes.  
"You are all clear winners!" he exclaimed to the baffled Princes, "I will make my decision about who shall gain my throne in due time. However, in the meantime, I remember your sweet mother. I know that she would only wish that you would gain the throne with a faithful woman by your side. Go now; find the loveliest princess to be your bride, and return in a year to discover your fate." With that he left, and all three brothers felt cheated now. Trowa left to his chariot in disgust, and raced back to Quatre's kingdom.  
Quatre could hardly control the pacing prince as he explained his feelings about his father's actions. He eventually made Trowa sit down and drink a little wine to calm his nerves.  
"It is obvious that you have won without a doubt," Quatre told him softly, "and you shall win the throne yet, I promise."  
"I am more upset about not showing any results," Trowa sighed, "after all, you have won me my throne, dear Quatre." That made Quatre blush again, but the rosy color was hidden beneath his coat once more.  
"Do not worry," Quatre said, "tell me what your father desires this time."  
"He wishes for my brothers and I to find the lovely one we shall marry," he sighed, "as a supposed wish from our mother."  
"Supposed?"  
"Our mother died shortly after my first birthday," Trowa explained, "only Treize was very close to her." Quatre looked a little sullen, pondering this new development. Trowa sighed quietly as Quatre began to pace, a look of deep thought upon his face. Realizing that he may be worrying Trowa, Quatre stopped and put a smile on for him.  
"Do not worry, we shall find a way to remedy this need. For now, let us relax here, as you seem quite weary." With that, Trowa thanked him and left to his quarters to sleep. Quatre sat in the parlor alone, wondering what to do about the new situation. He knew what had to happen, and it made him happy, but also terribly upset. Sleep did not come easily that night for him, but the next day he started the usual festivities everyone had been used to.  
Six months went by in the blink of an eye; Trowa found himself becoming closer and closer to Quatre as time wore on. He started to get nervous about time though.  
"Quatre," he said one night as they were lounging in the courtyard after a hunt, "you know I love being in your company, but shouldn't I be looking for a love? Finding the right sword or dog is one thing, but someone I shall spend my life with?" Quatre suddenly leapt onto the top of the lounge chair the prince was stretched out upon.  
"I have a solution and a way to find that person," he said in a barely audible tone, "but you must trust me completely." Trowa looked at him with a blend of confusion and excitement on his features.  
"Of course I trust you," he answered as he sat up to look at Quatre, "lead the way, my friend." Quatre gave him a half-hearted smile with doubt in his mind and then lead Trowa back into the familiar parlor. Quatre sat in his favorite chair and addressed Trowa.  
"You see the sword on the mantle over the fireplace?" Quatre asked. Indeed, Trowa had seen the find blade many times, and now he lifted it from its plaque and inspected it.  
"It's just like the one you gave me for my father." He smiled, and then stopped when he looked at Quatre's new stern expression. There was so much in that look, that it would be hard for anyone to try to understand what Quatre was thinking or feeling.  
"Now listen to me, Trowa," he instructed the prince, "if I am to help you with your quest, you must do exactly as I say. Do you promise me that you will?"  
"Yes, I promise," Trowa smiled, "I'll do whatever you ask of me."  
"Then I shall hold you to your word," Quatre replied, a hint of a sigh on his wavering voice, "I want you to take that sword and cut off my head!" Trowa leapt to his feet, taken back completely but this terrible request.  
"Cut off your head?!" he reeled, "How could I ever do such a thing? I cannot do this, Quatre, I simply cannot!"  
"But you must," Quatre said in a smooth and sweet, yet stern voice, "please, do this for yourself, and do it now!" Trowa had a heavy look about him, his breath was catching in his throat and he seemed to have lost function for a moment. As he drew the sword up, it looked as if he struggled with the decision terribly. He opened his mouth once more to plead, but shut it again when he looked at Quatre who was patiently waiting. Tears stung his eyes, but he drew the blade up with a quick surge of power and cut off Quatre's head, afraid that if he did not do it at that moment, he never would have and Quatre's trust would have been betrayed. At once came a bright flash of light, and Trowa was knocked off of his feet, hitting his head on the way down. Quatre knelt beside the unconscious prince and smiled.  
"Thank you, Trowa," Quatre said, touching Trowa's face with a new hand, "you shall awaken to become a king." 


	3. Chapter 3: Uncertainty to Unity

Disclaimer: See chapter 1  
  
Chapter 3: Uncertainty to Unity  
Trowa awoke the next day in his little room at the castle. For a moment, his vision was blurry and his groggy mind tried to sort out what happened. He quickly left his bed as soon as he realized what happened the night before. He dressed quickly and rushed down the empty hallway to the parlor where he found a surprise that made his heart leap into his throat. The room was empty, until he heard Quatre's voice from behind the armchair that was facing backwards to him.  
"Glad to see that you are awake, Trowa."  
"Oh, Quatre," he sighed in relief as he hurried over to the front of the chair, "I guess it was a nightmare, I was so..." Trowa's voice failed him as he looked upon Quatre. Now instead of a little white tom, there sat a young man with white-blonde hair and those same aquamarine eyes.  
"Do my eyes deceive me?" Trowa said in disbelief.  
"No, you have returned me to normalcy, Trowa," Quatre stood up and was now only inches shorter than the prince, "you have saved me from a curse that turned myself and my court into cats, and changed my countryside into thick bramble forests. You released me from my bondage, and for this, I owe you so very much!" Quatre could not help himself but embrace Trowa warmly from his joy. Trowa returned the embrace equally or even with more energy, finally seeing how Quatre's afflictions could be reasoned. Quatre cling to him a little.  
"An old witch punished me out of jealousy for having such a prosperous gathering of kingdoms," Quatre explained, "so we became a race of cats until someone came to break the spell."  
"Bow how did I break the spell?" Trowa asked, "I thought I had killed you."  
"That does not matter right now," Quatre stammered and pulled away from the lingering embrace, "I must address the problem of your quest." Quatre knew he was just avoiding the question, but he was unsure of what he wanted to say. He explained that all of his sisters were princesses, and that he ruled the kindom because he was the sole male heir. Any one of them was open to Trowa, if he so desired on of the lovely women. Most of them looked very much like their siblings, some with brunette hair, most blonde and fair. Trowa spent three months with the girls, trying to decide. All the while, he noticed that Quatre's behavior was becoming increasingly withdrawn. Aside from planning the daily activities, he was unusually quiet and somber. One day, after relaxing from a hunt in the study, Trowa was determined to discover the secrets plaguing his friend.  
"Quatre," he began while cleaning his blade, "you never told me about the curse over your kingdoms."  
"Of course I did," Quatre mumbled blankly while thumbing through a large, leather bound volume.  
"Yes, you told me about it," Trowa retorted, "but you never explained about all of it." Quatre looked up, his reading glasses slipping down to the bridge of his nose, he seemed to pale slightly.  
"I guess I, I," Quatre fumbled for words, "I guess I never have."  
"I wish you would tell me, I would like to know. You are my best friend after all." Trowa sheathed his sword and sat near a suddenly bright red Quatre.  
"I've been afraid to," Quatre said nervously, "I am afraid you won't believe all of it."  
"Of course I will." Trowa smiled gently and placed a hand upon Quatre's shoulder.  
"I'm sorry," Quatre drew away from the desk and headed through the study doors, calling back, "but I just can't tell you right now!" Trowa sat for some time at the desk, wondering why Quatre behaved in such a way. In truth, Trowa was beginning to question his own behavior as of late. He spent most of his time with Quatre even though he should have been courting one of the girls. He stayed in the study for quite some time, reading from the same volume that Quatre had been. He tried to get off his mind what he feared to be an unhealthy development.  
Quatre was up in his quarters, talking to his elder sister, Miranda, about what he could do.  
"I don't know what I am to do," he sighed, "I fear telling him the truth of why he was able to set us all free. He may not believe that I am telling the truth."  
"How could he not?" Miranda tried to console her brother, "He shall see that it is true and all will go as you wish!"  
"Miranda," Quatre said slowly, "you are the one he feels strongly for. I see him falling deeper for you day by day. He is loving you."  
"Only because I am the most like you!" Miranda's voice softened, "You must tell him before you both live a life that you shall regret in lonely solitude." She kissed her brother's forehead and headed for the door. Quatre's heart sank.  
"Do not carry this as a heavy burden upon your shoulders," he called, "know that I believe you are right, and I am going to tell him. Also, forgive this siege of your new love, which I know you harbor."  
"Quatre," she turned back, "I wish you to know that this love of mine is not as deep as yours. He is not who I am meant for. I only wish for you to pursue this endeavor, as I am only an obstacle in the momentary way. Goodnight, Quatre."  
"Goodnight, Miranda." Quatre stretched out on his back as she left. There he lay for some time, contemplating his next move.  
Meanwhile, Miranda snuck down to the study where Trowa was beginning to doze off at the desk. He shook himself awake when he heard the door click shut.  
"Perhaps you should get some sleep, prince." She giggled.  
"I cannot sleep while my thoughts are flying." Trowa feigned a smile. She walked over and sat on the desk to his right.  
"You are worried about something."  
"Yes, I can't lie about that."  
"You are worried about my brother." She said quietly. Trowa blinked himself awake again; he looked at Miranda with a surprised expression.  
"What do you mean?"  
"It is obvious, my dear prince!" She laughed, "You should go talk to him."  
"Right now?"  
"Right now!" She laughed again, pulling him up from the chair.  
Quatre heard scuffling and laughter in the hallway. Suddenly, Miranda opened the door and let Trowa in.  
"Goodnight, you two." And then she shut the door.  
"She is going to be the end of me!" Quatre groaned and fell back onto his bed. Trowa laughed a little.  
"I think she is just trying to get you and me to talk," Trowa sat on the end of Quatre's bed, which unnerved him greatly, "so, how about we talk?"  
"Are you sure that you wouldn't rather sleep?" Quatre bluffed.  
"No," Trowa stood his ground, "and I will wait here until you speak, even if I have to stay here for days on end." Quatre thought inwardly that he would not mind that, but dismissed the thought. He felt Trowa moving the rest of his body onto the end of the bed, so he sat up and eyed the prince who was watching him curiously.  
"Well, what do you want to know?"  
"Everything," Trowa urged, "I want you to tell me everything about the kingdom, you, the curse, and how I ended it." Quatre shifted and sat on his knees.  
"I guess I should start from the beginning."  
"That would be the best place."  
"There was a witch in our kingdom," Quatre began, "by the name of Hazelwood. She had been forever enamored with my father, the previous king. She was, indeed, lovely unto any eye, but she held a vile temper and a cruel nature; my father wanted nothing to do with such a woman."  
"So what did he do?"  
"Well, it was not really his fault," Quatre remembered, "it was her jealousy that triggered all the things she did to us. My father had a very large court, and many women who bore children to him, thus my many sisters. He was awaiting a male heir, as tradition was. Hazelwood promised to my father that if he were to lay with her and make her queen, she would bare him a son. My father knew better, and married my mother, the love of his life. She had been warned against having children, but she soon became pregnant and gave birth to me. She should have heeded the warnings though, because soon after her labor she died."  
"Quatre," Trowa's voice was almost guilty for bringing up the subject, "I'm so sorry."  
"It is all right, I loved her dearly even though I never knew her," Quatre smiled, and then continued with his story, "Hazelwood was all too happy to hear about my mother's death, but she was no fool. She waited for years to return to our kingdoms, until I was the age I am now. She returned, trying to win over my father once more, but he was a happy man, and her charms held no sway."  
"What did she do about it?"  
"She wanted to take away some of his happiness," Quatre recalled bitterly, "so she laid a trap for me to fulfill her wish of killing the male heir. I was to have an accident while out hunting, but through some strange circumstance, it was my father's horse that tripped down the hill. As I watched him fall, I knew he was not going to get back up. I watched my father die by the hand of a bitter, jealous woman." Quatre had anger-ridden tears forming in his eyes. Trowa crawled further up the bed and sat beside Quatre. He extended a friendly arm around Quatre's shoulders, which seemed to comfort him a little.  
"You don't have to tell me any more if it pains you so." Trowa smiled sadly.  
"No, I need to tell you," Quatre wiped the tears away, "I have the courage to at this moment, and I don't know if I will later. Hazelwood knew that she had made a grave error, and that she could be ruined or killed in an instant. When my men and I confronted her, ready to kill her, she cursed us, and my father's lands. We became a race of cats, and the once fruitful lands became brambles and wastelands. She only got away for a few weeks before we tracked her down and destroyed her, but the harm had been done."  
"So what was included in the curse she levied?" Trowa asked, "What was to happen, how could you break it?"  
"I don't think you would believe me if I told you." Quatre laughed, cursing to himself. Trowa leaned in and rested his forehead against Quatre's, his arm still around his shoulders. He smiled gently, and almost laughed at the heat radiating from Quatre's flushed face.  
"Quatre," Trowa closed his eyes, "it was you who implored my trust, my loyalty, before. They are here for you still! So tell me Quatre, I am not afraid of the truth." Quatre felt his breath slipping from his chest, being so close to this beautiful prince. He suddenly grasped onto Trowa's free hand.  
"The truth is," he stammered, "that the curse would only be broken by someone who could love me beyond all others, yet trust my word enough to cut off my head." Quatre's quick explanation left Trowa a little speechless. He tried to reply, but the words betrayed him. Quatre removed himself from Trowa's grip, and stood up nervously.  
"I had a feeling this would not work, how could it be true?" Quatre rambled frivolously before Trowa leapt up and grabbed him by the shoulders.  
"Quatre, why didn't you tell me before?"  
"I don't know, honestly," he fumbled, "I was so afraid that you would not feel the same. Sure, I am free from the curse, but it means nothing without-"  
"Without what?"  
"Without getting to see you everyday," Quatre seemed so tired and so relieved to get all of his feelings out, "not being able to talk with you, or have anyone to be open with. I would just die if you weren't here." Trowa pulled Quatre into a warm embrace.  
"No need to worry about that," he purred quietly into Quatre's ear, "I would never dream of leaving you, although my father may find this a little hard to believe." Quatre nearly jumped at the words.  
"Do you mean it?"  
"Of course I do." Trowa looked into those aquamarine eyes and knew at once that he was Quatre's from that day forth. Quatre did not expect the kiss that followed, or spending the night talking and then falling asleep in Trowa's arms. Miranda opened Quatre's chamber doors the next morning to see the two of them lying on the bed, clothed, but hopelessly entangled with one another. She smiled at her little matchmaking act, and then shut the door to leave them be.  
Miranda found Quatre later that day, and she threw her arms around him in an enthusiastic embrace. Quatre had returned to the happy man that he used to be before his father's death.  
"So, have you set a date?" she asked with a cheeky grin.  
"Set a date?"  
"For your wedding?"  
"Miranda!" Quatre flushed crimson, "I have not even met his father yet!"  
"I am just teasing!" She smirked as she noticed Trowa approach them, "Should I ask his opinion?"  
"No!" Quatre flashed her an annoyed look.  
"Opinion on what?" Trowa asked.  
"Nothing," Miranda went back inside the main hallway to leave, "just my curiosity." Trowa looked to Quatre, who was just shaking his head.  
The next few months allowed Quatre's six kingdoms to rebuild and connect with the world once more. Quatre and Trowa also had a chance to develop their relationship. The day came for their trip back to see King Howard. Trowa had time enough to be sure that Quatre was ready to go. His court disguised Quatre as the same white tom that Trowa had first met three years prior.  
"This ought to give them a surprise." Quatre purred. The trip took only eight hours in a horse-drawn carriage. Heero and Treize had already arrived, and their courts were busily gossiping about whom their masters had fallen in love with. Trowa held Quatre in his crooked arm as he headed past all of the servants and knights into the castle. He saw Treize first; a lovely woman with chestnut-brown hair was on his arm. He smiled at them, but before he could go and greet them, Heero came into the room followed closely by a young man of the same age with very long, dark-brown braided hair. Trowa looked over at Treize, who merely gave him a knowing glance. Trowa could barely contain his astonishment.  
"Trowa," Treize walked over with his lady in hand, "let me introduce the Lady Une, soon to be my wife."  
"'Tis a pleasure." Trowa knelt and kissed her hand, careful to not drop Quatre. The Lady Une smiled and curtsied, a truly beautiful woman.  
"Duo," Heero addressed the man at his side, "this is my younger brother, Trowa."  
"Very nice to meet you, Trowa." Duo had a wonderful smile. They shook hands in greeting.  
"So, where is your love, Prince?" he heard the Lady Une ask gently.  
"They shall be here soon, not to worry." No sooner had he said it, a page entered the room to summon them to the King. Howard was worried about how he was going to keep his kingdom this time, and he was not in a good mood. He greeted his sons kindly, despite his low feelings.  
"It is good to see you all safe," he said, "now, introduce me to your ladies." Trowa looked at Heero worriedly, by Heero looked calm, and so did Duo. Treize introduced the Lady Une first, and King Howard seemed quite charmed with her. Heero introduced Duo next, and Howard was a little more than surprised, but he loved his sons very much despite his behavior, and he would accept them no matter what. Trowa breathed a sigh of relief, and he heard his father's voice call to him.  
"And where is your love, Trowa," he asked, and then laughed, "don't tell me it is that white cat you hold?"  
"I hold here," Trowa knelt and explained, "a white tom of the most gentle manner. His paws are so soft, and his voice so light, that I am sure you will be charmed with him." Just as Howard reached to touch the tom, it hopped out of Trowa's arms, bursting into a flash of glittering blue. When the light dimmed, Quatre stood before him in kingly array.  
"Good King Howard," Quatre acknowledged him, "my name is Quatre, and I rule several kingdoms of the east. I come to ask why you have denied your throne to your son, Trowa, who has fairly won it twicefold."  
"I didn't think my sons were ready to rule." King Howard fumbled. Quatre understood in an instant what Trowa had seen.  
"Do not worry King," he nodded, "I have not come to steal your kingdom, which you rule so well. I am here on the behalf of my love, your son, Trowa. I offer to each of your sons a kingdom of my six for them to rule so that you may keep your own. All I ask for is your blessing for Trowa and I." Quatre was so stately that Trowa was taken back a little. King Howard could not help but agree, and he and Trowa were married a short time later among family and friends from every kingdom.  
  
End Notes:  
  
I hope it is better to understand in places since I got rid of the typos!  
  
So, how was it, did you all like it? This was one of my favorite stories to write, although it gave me some trouble sometimes, that is mainly why it took so long to update. Thank you to my reviewers, it really means something when people comment, it makes one want to write a lot more!  
  
I am not sure if I should leave this as it is though, it could be carried on into a completely original bit, but I am not sure. Any ideas? Should I? Ahh well, I hope you enjoyed this story, because I loved writing it! 


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